


New world, new life

by Moloko_and_cookies



Series: Ineffable [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 18:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19481101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moloko_and_cookies/pseuds/Moloko_and_cookies
Summary: Crowley suffers an internal conflict when his car decides that it's only going to play one song until his owner and Aziraphale settle one last unresolved issue.





	New world, new life

The first night of the new world was clear and chill; a perfect late summer night. Everything was already closed and only a few night owls wandered around the city. None of them suspected that among them, an angel and a demon walked slowly around the park after dining at the Ritz, taking their time to reach their car, enjoying the breeze and the moonlight, knowing that they were there thanks to them —at least partially—. As the two supernatural entities that they were, neither Crowley nor Aziraphale needed to sleep and they both wanted to stay up and continue celebrating their newly gained freedom. Finally, after six thousand years conforming to a set of old-fashioned rules and restrictions, there was nothing to hide and nobody to ask them uncomfortable questions or punish them for fraternising with their respective adversaries. Aziraphale and Crowley had always had their own side, since the early days of their secret arrangement, which was now official.

“May I tempt you one last time tonight to a glass of wine at my place, angel?” Crowley asked, opening the door of his car.

“It occurred to me that maybe we could go to my bookshop instead. You know… to celebrate that it has been miraculously restored. Just like your car. Thanks to Adam, I guess.” The angel smiled gently, waiting for his friend to accept, which he did with enthusiasm, staring at the angel’s smile. Defying Satan had been worth it just to see such happiness in Aziraphale's face again.

Crowley had been always proud of his car, and he was right in doing so, because it was one of the toughest, more efficient machines ever made by human hands. The car had been working for almost one hundred years now, without even needing to be filled with gasoline —Crowley used to pride himself on that, now that he had met Pollution in the flesh and was able to say that he was keeping one of the Horsemen away in his own style—. The vintage Bentley had even survived —more like resurrected, actually— the Apocalypse and an infernal flaming road designed by its owner. However, among all the things that made the old reliable Bentley special, Crowley loved its ability to choose the music that it wanted. That unique feature had a little downside, though: he couldn’t leave any CD in the car for more than a fortnight if he didn’t want it to turn into a Queen album. It wasn’t a disadvantage because he disliked Queen, but because he loved the Velvet Underground and many others too. What Crowley didn’t know was that the car could be extremely stubborn when it came to choosing the music.

As soon as Crowley started the car, a few notes emerged from the speakers. Although Crowley was used to the car choosing the melodies and he usually didn’t care, the moment he recognised the song he pressed a button to listen to the following one. Why had he done that? He didn’t know, but the urge to avoid that specific song was strong. Luckily, Aziraphale knew very little about Queen’s discography. He wouldn’t have noticed. Soon, Crowley started to hear the same piano melody again. Hadn’t he changed the song? He tried again, and again. Apparently, the car only wanted them to listen to that specific song. Crowley started to feel nervous, so he finally switched off the music. Aziraphale was talking, but he didn’t hear him because he was too busy ‘fighting’ against the machine.

“Uh… Sorry?” He stuttered and hoped that Aziraphale hadn’t noticed his unease.

“I asked why you have stopped the music. I liked it.” The angel answered softly. Despite having his eyes on the road, Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s blue eyes fixed on him, which made him feel even more nervous. Aziraphale must have noticed the change in his mood already; he used to feel those kinds of things easily and quickly with his angelic empathy or whatever on Earth —or Heaven— it was called.

Before Crowley could say anything, and despite being turned off, the music started to play again. The demon tried to find an excuse while as Freddie Mercury sang _Love of my life_.

“Yeah… uh… I thought you wouldn’t like Queen…” He said in the end. What a terrible excuse, he thought afterwards. Of course the angel was going to enjoy the song. The melody was peaceful and sweet; the lyrics, loving; and the voice… well, it was Freddie Mercury, his voice was just celestial. Nothing about the song could ever bother an angel, and especially not Aziraphale, who had such a good musical taste. Again, Crowley refused to look at Aziraphale directly, but he looked like he was smiling.

“I do… well, at least this song… It feels…”

“Please, angel, don’t say ‘loved’ again.” Crowley interrupted with an annoyed expression, as if he didn’t care. However, behind his always cool façade, he actually liked the way Aziraphale used to say that about any random thing or place, sometimes even people. The way his face lit up; the pure, innocent joy in his voice…

Apparently that worked; Aziraphale didn’t say anything else, while Crowley resigned and let the song continue. It was strange, driving towards the bookshop in silence. For Crowley it was terrible; he couldn’t stop ruminating on the lyrics of the song. And, since Aziraphale didn’t talk, maybe he was doing the same; he didn’t seem angry nor worried, just… dreamy. At some point, the angel looked away, out of his window, his chin resting on the palm of his left hand and the right one on his knee, as if he was waiting for someone to take it. Why did he have to be such a… an angel? Crowley wondered as he looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. Had Aziraphale ever been a model for a painter? Perhaps, one day he would walk into a Renaissance art exposition and find an angel that looked too familiar. As soon as the thought popped up, Crowley took a deep breath and tried to get rid of it. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t realised that the car was playing the same song again after it had finished. Luckily, they were already in front of the library. He would have time later to reprimand the car like he used to do to his plants. When Crowley stopped the Bentley, Aziraphale blinked like someone who had just woke up from a deep trance. Crowley blamed it on the soothing melody they had been listening too, or the amount of wine they had already drank, or a combination of both. That was what he wanted to think, though, because the other possibilities, like Aziraphale reflecting on a love song and discovering 'something', were disturbing for some reason Crowley couldn’t quite grasp.

_Who will remember_

_When this is blown over_

_And everything's all by the way?_

_When I grow older_

_I will be there at your side to remind you_

_How I still love you_

Freddie Mercury’s voice resonated inside the care even more now that Crowley had stopped the car’s engine. That verse of the song —that one verse exactly— got stuck in Crowley’s mind as he turned to the angel.

“Let’s go?” He asked impatiently, willing to get out of the car, take a glass of wine and pretend that the last minutes hadn’t happened.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale murmured. “Wait. I think there’s something we haven’t talked about. Perhaps… perhaps now it is the moment to solve it.”

“We can do it in the book shop, angel, can’t we? It’s more comfortable.” Crowley begged, turning towards Aziraphale. The angel looked radiant, like always did when he was happy or surrounded by the love and happiness of others. Suddenly Crowley understood why he didn’t want to hear that song in that moment; it had made the atmosphere inside the car change. Aziraphale surely felt comfortable there, but Crowley had never been surrounded by such a strong un-demonic force, not even in the angel’s bookshop. It was because of the lack of space in the car, he reassured himself, too small; the feeling wouldn’t be so concentrated in a bigger place. Finally Crowley gave up. He couldn’t keep lying to himself, and no matter how hard he tried, the angel would know the truth. Probably he already did. Crowley sighed and let himself fall on his seat while he gazed at Aziraphale. The angel moved closer to him, apparently unbothered, his blue eyes looking like two pieces of the purest silver in the dark.

“I’ve been thinking…” Aziraphale started, a bit shyly but with his eyes still fixed on Crowley’s sunglasses, trying to get a glimpse of his snake eyes behind the dark lenses. “I feel something in this car. I’ve always felt it. But apparently it’s stronger tonight.” For once, Crowley wished Aziraphale had used _the word._ He _wanted_ to hear it, to feel it was real. Not having to figure it out himself would save him a bit of embarrassment and suffering. “And I remembered that we were here, in this car, fifty years ago… It was the late sixties, when I gave you the holy water…” As always, Aziraphale was taking his time to tell a story. This time Crowley didn’t care, however; as he listened and remembered that night, he let the ‘un-demonic feel’ that filled the car grow on him, and he understood that it had always been there, not in the car, but inside him. The difference was that now he was allowing himself to feel it without restrictions. And apparently Aziraphale was trying to do the same. “And I told you that you go to fast for me. Well… I wasn’t referring to your driving skills…” A tender smile formed on Crowley’s lips and he took off his glasses. He wanted to see his angel clearly. “And… I was just thinking… maybe I was wrong back then, maybe six thousand years is enough time but I needed a failed Apocalypse to understand… I mean, we have been offered a new opportunity and I’d like to make the most of it…” Aziraphale stopped there, gazing at Crowley, waiting for his response.

The demon took a deep breath. Aziraphale’s declaration had moved him, he couldn’t deny that truth. Crowley took a few seconds before replying, trying to find the words for everything he wanted to say. He didn’t remember a time when he had struggled so much to say something. As a demon, he wasn’t used to that kind of confessions. Actually, as a demon, he shouldn’t even feel that kind of feeling, not to mention that he felt like that for an angel.

“Well… let’s just say that, if there’s a bigger one coming, like I think it’s coming…”Crowley paused for a moment. “Uh…I want to be by your side… All the time, until the very end… I mean, like this time, only…” Crowley closed his eyes for a second, thinking how terribly bad he was doing it. Aziraphale was there, opening his heart and he… well, he was a demon, and he wasn’t supposed to have a heart, for starters —in a metaphorical way, at least—.

Crowley was still trying to figure out how to word everything he felt when Aziraphale’s hand on his cheek surprised him. It was a soft and loving caress, like everything Aziraphale did. It made Crowley’s skin burn in a delightful way that he had never experienced. He had never been touched with so much affection, and he realised that he now craved it but only if it was Aziraphale’s hand that touched him. The next thing he felt was Aziraphale’s lips brushing his cheek, a spot that was very close to the corner of his mouth. Crowley tilted his head a few millimetres, until his nose grasped Aziraphale’s. The angel’s eyes were closed and his heated breath against Crowley’s skin melted the last bit of doubt in the demon’s heart. Crowley closed his eyes as he let himself go when his lips and Aziraphale’s met. Crowley didn’t know how much time the kiss lasted, only that in that lapse of time he remembered each and every one of the moments when he had wanted to do it. He kissed Aziraphale as if only one kiss could hold the love and passion of thousands of kisses that had only happened in Crowley’s mind. What he hadn’t been able to express with words, he wanted to express with kisses and caresses.

“You can say it now, angel.” Crowley teased when they finally pulled apart, though still holding each other as close as the car allowed them. Aziraphale, even more radiant-looking now, gave him a puzzled look, not understanding what Crowley was referring to. “You know what I mean… What you wanted to say about the song, and the car… You didn’t say the word before and I want to hear it now.”

“That they feel… loved?” The angel blushed a bit when he said it, which made Crowley smile and promise himself that, from that moment on, he would do anything to make Aziraphale’s cheeks turn that beautiful shade again.

“Except it isn’t the car that feels loved, isn’t it? And it wasn’t the song either… am I wrong?” Aziraphale smiled and whispered a negative answer. “It’s you. You felt loved.” It is very difficult to say that you love someone when you are a demon and, therefore, not used to love and to be loved. It is almost a fight against your own demonic nature. But that was just normal for Crowley, who had spent his whole life as a demon defying his very essence. Despite everything, however, he had found a way to say it, at least indirectly, and, judging by Aziraphale’s expression, it had worked.

“It’s both of us, actually.” The angel corrected Crowley, lovingly, with a huge smile. “The feeling is strong here. Love, I mean. And it grew even more the moment that King started to sing.”

“It’s Queen, angel.” This time it was Crowley who corrected Aziraphale with an amused tone.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I thought it was a man…”

“Yes, his name was Freddie Mercury. But the band’s name is Queen. You still have a lot to learn about music. By the way, I guess the car wanted us to hear that song.” Crowley shrugged. Internally he was divided; a part of him was still cursing the car, the other one thanked him for the much needed help.

“Oh, so it… thinks?” Aziraphale opened his eyes with surprise. “Oh, look, the music has changed now!” He exclaimed, excited. “Maybe it knows it’s done a good action.”

“It sure does.” Crowley uttered, clearly annoyed, after recognising _We are the champions._ “We’d better go sit in the bookshop. It’s more comfortable than this.”

Aziraphale and Crowley left the car behind, silent at last, as they walked into the bookshop, trying to decide which wine was the best for such a special occasion: the beginning of a new world and their new lives.


End file.
